Page 52 of Dead End

“You're wrong,” he whispered tightly. “I watched you push everyone out of your life after your parents died. I watched every single day as you fell further and further apart, becoming an empty shell. How do you bring someone back who doesn’t want any help dealing with their own pain?” he asked. I blinked at him as he said, “You make them live. You get them angry enough that they wake up every morning with the need to prove everyone wrong. You're a survivor of horrible pain, October, and you're the girl that’s finally trying to live again.” He glided his fingertips over the bridge of my nose and down the slope until he reached my lips, tracing them with a small grin and tugging at his wide lips.

I maneuvered to repeatedly smack his chest in suppressed anger. “Yeah, I heard about your dumbass plan from Jason, and now I’m mad all over again. How could you put me through that shit after everything?” In the small box, my love taps barely registered.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I stopped beating him up, and I weakly rested the palm of my hand over his fast-beat heart. “Thank you for taking care of me when I couldn’t do it myself,” I rasped out, admitting that I wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t made my life a living hell. “I hadn’t realized it was that bad.”

“Anytime, little goth, but don’t fucking do that to us again. It killed me to see you like that. And I held onto my own anger for a while too, when I had to hear about you going behind our backs. I hated having to hear it from their mouths and not yours.”

He pushed the door open, surprising me, and wrapped his arm around my waist with his palm spread out over my lower back. He slid out with me plastered to his body and hopped us down gracefully for a man his height. I looked around but realized the danger of getting caught had passed because the assistant was gone again. Must be on a lunch break? Who the fuck cared, because my heart was about to bust out of my chest as sweat coated my palms?

“I-I couldn’t choose. I wanted you all.” I walked over to the clean, shiny metal table and picked up a bonesaw because I couldn’t look him in the face without feeling guilt.

A shiver cascaded down my spine when he gathered my hair and swiped it to the side as he placed his chin on my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I felt heat instead of cold, love instead of hatred, and I hoped the feeling would last.

“Wanted or still do?” His lips glided over my neck, barely touching but still causing goosebumps to prickle over my skin in delight.

“Always want. There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t wanted all of you guys,” I confessed, dreading that he would push me away in disgust and call me a whore.

“Can I keep you, Tobs?” He skimmed his soft lips over the shell of my ear as he whispered the question I’d longed for. “Can I finally make you mine? I'll always share with my brothers, and I’ll never doubt what’s in here.” He placed his hand over my rapidly beating heart and just stood there, holding me, rocking us back and forth.

“Keep me? Michael, you had me the very second you shyly introduced yourself and asked if I wanted some of your ice cream. I’ll always be yours, even if you hate me. Even if I’ll never, ever share my favorite ice cream.” I leaned my head back against his shoulder and looked up at his handsome face.

His eyes were closed as his chest rose and fell rapidly against my back. His lips slid into a slow, wicked smile before he opened his darkening eyes to stare down at my upturned face.

“The things that you do to me are the things I want to do to you. You should run away before it’s too late,” he whispered against my temple, his soft lips trailing down until his cheek was placed along mine.

Was it possible for one's heart to punch its way out of the chest cavity and fly into the palm of the person who got it racing in the first place? Our breathing was the only thing filling up the silent yet peaceful space. I shifted my gaze down as I watched his long fingers skim along the exposed skin between my corset and skirt.

“Show me!” I groaned. “Show me how bad you want me. Show me every single bad thing you want to do to me.” My voice came out raspy, begging him to give me all the dark and dirty thoughts he’d always hidden behind those ocean eyes.

He groaned as if in agony, tightening his now clawed, inky fingertips into my skin enough to leave bruises. He slowly dragged those magical hands up the silk material of my corset until his fingers trailed over the racing pulse in my neck for a beat, just before wrapping his hand around my throat to angle my face towards his.

“You don’t know what you're asking for, little goth, but I'll be happy to show you.” He didn’t wait for my reply. Smooth lips smashed against mine in a kiss that was possessive, hard, and demanding, forcing me to open up under the pressure.

I most definitely met his silent command, opening my mouth with a whimper as his tongue snaked in with a leisurely caress against mine. I met his stroke for stroke, and it was messy and dirty, and I loved every second of it. His grip tightened around my throat to angle my head better, then his hand loosened and trailed unhurriedly along my hairline to the back of my neck, his fingers weaving in my hair until he gripped a fistful to control my every movement.

Who knew that the guys were hiding the need to give and give some more behind those stony masks for a whole year? I would have been way down with the dicking, but I guessed it wasn’t the time then.

“Bend over,” he commanded roughly, and I swear my pussy pulsed with that demand, practically begging him to fuck me good and hard.

He added pressure to my neck, pushing me down until my breasts were pressed against the cold surface of the metal table, stealing my breath away as he felt past my silk corset and pebbled my nipples almost painfully.

“Right here?” I asked in a husky voice full of need, bracing my hands on the table with my fingers spread wide.

“Right here, October. I’m going to spank you until your ass is sore and your pussy is weeping just for me. You’ll be feeling me for days,” he threatened, his voice hard and gentle at the same time.

Michael slid his other hand down my back until he was grasping the back of my thigh, then he trailed his talented fingers up higher and flipped my skirt over my hips. He still held onto my neck with one hand, so I couldn’t move as my cheek lay on the table, my breath fogging the metal with each excited pant. I spread my legs wider, bracing myself and arching my spine, because I needed to feel his touch and the heat that came along with each punishing smack.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, waiting for my fast nod before letting go of my neck and grasping both of my ass cheeks with another groan.

He gripped my ass before letting go to finger my thong, pulling the material and causing it to rub against my clit before snapping it in place, stinging my skin. His fingers lightly ran over my pussy lips through the thong, feeling how soaking wet I already was for him. The cool air brushed over my asscheeks when he removed his hands, until suddenly, his palm came down in a hard slap that made me gasp at the burning sensation. The blood rushed to the heated spot, and I could feel my arousal starting to drip down my thighs.

“Again,” I pleaded breathlessly, gripping the table for dear life as I stood on my tippy toes with my ass sticking up. I loved the way he hissed out a breath after discovering how much I needed this.

I’d take all the darkness he had inside him. I’d take the good too, but I’d get on my hands and knees for that wicked side of him to come out and play with me. He promised I wouldn’t be able to sit for a week, and I believed him as he landed smack after smack on my ass, leaving my butt pulsing with the beat of my heart and swelling tenderly under his touch.

I begged him to bring me the creature I craved, and he delivered. He paused, breathing heavily at my back as he ran his hand over the red prints in a soothing way, before quickly grabbing me by the waist and flipping me over until my butt were resting on the cold table. I cried out from the shock of it—the sting like tiny little needles—until it faded into a pleasurable pulse.

“Place your feet on the ledge and spread your legs,” he said, his deep voice hard as he stared down at me. His eyes were changing, a galaxy of stars flashing in his gaze.

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